


Le Maître de la Belle

by SilkHidingSteel



Category: Beauty and the Beast (1991)
Genre: Bondage, Disney, Dungeon, F/M, Fairy Tale Retellings, Falling In Love, It's kinda close so I didn't know whether or not to tag "underage", Love/Hate, Master/Slave, Princes & Princesses, S&M, Shameless Smut, Yes I know Belle is only seventeen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-24
Updated: 2013-06-25
Packaged: 2017-12-15 23:23:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/855172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilkHidingSteel/pseuds/SilkHidingSteel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When she first arrives at the castle, Belle is determined to spend as much time as possible away from her captor.  Unfortunately, after she calls him out on his cruelty one afternoon, the Beast decides to do things his way and locks her in the dungeon.</p><p>After the Beast shows Belle the pleasures through the punishments that she earns by not obeying him, she starts to crave a physical relationship with the Beast.  However, she cannot bring herself to answer yes to his nightly question, but as Belle starts seeing the man within the Beast she finds that saying no to him is getting harder and harder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> After a good two years of writing nothing but squeaky clean humor fics, I've decided to take a crack at something a little... _darker_. I am trying to make it as tasteful as possible without diving straight into 'lemon' territory, but according to TV Tropes, lemons can be done tastefully as well. Comments and constructive criticism are always welcome- I like getting emails from people other than college recruiters. They make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.
> 
> The big reason why I've gotten an account here is so that if this story is deleted on fanfiction.net, it can still go on elsewhere.

After the incident with the wolves, the weeks spent in the Beast’s elegant castle crept along like a sickly turtle for the trapped mademoiselle, yet fluttered past like a snowflake trapped in a flurry for the rest of the castle’s inhabitants, the Beast included. The pair had barely spoken since the tender moment they had shared before the fireplace, and the Beast was becoming more and more anxious as time went on . He spent his evenings pacing before the rose in his sanctuary, the West Wing, and plotted a series of contrived conveniences in which Belle would fall head over heels for the man beneath the fur without a care in the world.

Despite her immediate disrespect and disobedience the minute she became his “guest”, the Beast had quickly developed a sort of compassion for the young woman. She was headstrong yet kind- she offered herself as a replacement for her ailing father in a heartbeat, making the old man’s cries of “No Belle!” sound much closer to “Noble!”. Besides that, she was gorgeous. Her silky brown hair cascaded down her back in waves when she wore it down, while her stunning hazel eyes shone like jewels beneath her thick black eyelashes. Her lips were plump and luscious, and whatever she wore subtly showed off her lithe, supple figure. She had an air of class about her that made wooing her seem more daunting than attempting to gain the attentions of a common ditzy blonde. He loved to hear her gush over books at dinner, and every time he was near her he seemed to learn something.

This was his last chance- the rose was wilting quickly, and he seemed to have no other choice. He seemed to like that.

Out of fear of getting into more trouble with her captor, Belle confined herself to her designated chamber with the company of Madame Armoire and the occasional book that Lumiére and Cogsworth had managed to sneak in from the master’s long abandoned library.

“I’m sure he won’t notice, Cherie,” the candlestick assured her in a gleeful tone. “I haven’t seen the master go in there in ages.”

The books were dusty and unloved by their true owners, but Belle was happy to have something new to read and learn about. Over the course of two weeks she managed to tackle dozens of classic novels and study a handful of exotic languages to the point of basic sentence structure and comprehension of simple stories. She received breakfast and lunch from Mrs. Potts as she made her rounds through the castle and attended dinner with the Beast as per his “request”, making this the only time in which she made contact with her captor.

The Beast encouraged the others to play along with this, asking that they not pressure her into anything and let things happen naturally, to cultivate the best results. Now he realized that this may not be the best plan.

One evening he decided to consult Lumiére, the supposed expert in such matters.

“How can I get this to work?” he grumbled impatiently. The Beast had curled into a wolf-like position, his tail flicking occasionally as he stared at the snowflakes peppering his window. The normally gleeful candlestick now stood worriedly beside the rose, rubbing his two tea candle “hands” together nervously.

“Sir, with all due respect, one cannot expect a maiden to fall for a man she rarely sees. You barely even speak to her at dinner- why, just this evening you merely asked her to pass the pepper, and that was all! No romantic gestures, no suave suggestions, just pepper!”

“I had nothing else to go on!”

“Ask about her reading! Compliment her gown! Her grace! The lovely shade of her eyes! Her voluptuous bosom!”

The Beast stared at the candlestick with a fire blazing in his cold blue eyes.

“Just a joke, my lord! Ask her what she likes to do! Her morals, her dreams, anything but a common condiment!”

The Beast tugged humbly at the back of his neck, realizing that he had essentially been allowing the rose to wilt without making any attempt to reverse the enchantment. He changed his position on the rug to a more comfortable one and began to brainstorm.

“Leave me,” he requested the candle stick. “I-I’ll think of something. If I screw up again tomorrow night, then we may have to assemble a new course of action.”

“Of course, my lord.” Lumiére hopped off the table and scurried his way out of the West Wing as best as he could, having no legs with which to scurry.

***

Bundled in a heavenly shroud of quilts and downy comforters, Belle settled back in her bed and stared sleepily at the silk scarves draped over her bed. The castle was dead silent, save for the snores of Madame Armoire in the corner of the room. The maiden stretched back and pulled one of the many feather pillows on her bed around her head. She lay there with her eyes closed and began to doze daintily. Her chest rose and fell rhythmically as she drifted off peacefully.

She awoke the next morning to the smell off cranberry scones, which had been lovingly (not to mention miraculously) placed on the nightstand beside her by Mrs. Potts and her entourage. Looking out the window as she ate, she admired the lovely winter weather outside, complete with fresh powdery snow, and followed her impulse to spend the day outside.

“Mooooooorniiiiiing,” yawned Madame Armoire, interrupting Belle’s thoughts.

“Do you think it would be fine if I stayed outside for a bit?”

“Of course, dear- just be sure not to catch cold.” She opened her drawers to reveal a rose red cloak laced with fine cream-colored fur.

“Don’t go too far now. Staaaaaaay in the gardennnnn…” Her words trailed off as she drifted back to sleep.

Belle gathered the cloak around her lithesome frame and selected a few friends to join her for the day- Don Quixote, Dante’s Inferno, and The Little Sea-Maiden, to name a few. She tied her hair back in the usual fashion and made her way towards the heavy double doors that lead to the hall.

***

The Beast had plans outside in the powdery snow as well, but they had a less innocent purpose. Over the years he had taken to hunting for his meals as opposed to eating all of his meals in the dining hall. At Mrs. Potts’ request, he still had his dinners there, as to retain some semblance of humanity, but there was no way to staunch his, well, beastlike thirst for blood. This was shown by the myriad of different carcasses that filled the West Wing, and was part of the reason why he did not want Belle to go in there. His prey varied from the deer that dotted the hills around his home, to the occasional small rabbit or other rodent of some sort.

He crept out of the castle on all fours and started towards his usual hunting spots, but was taken aback when he caught the gentle scent of his “guest” in the air. He trotted towards the source of the scent found Belle sitting by herself in the garden, wrapped in a fine cloak and deeply engrossed in a book.

He considered whether or not to approach her.

He feared frightening her.

He feared being trapped in this form forever more.

“Er, good morning, Belle.”

She looked up, startled at first, but her expression soon subsided into a gentle smile.

“Oh- good morning. I didn’t expect to find you out here. I assumed you spent most of your time in your quarters.”

“It depends on the weather and my mood.”

“It is a lovely day out,” she remarked, looking up at the lightly cloudy sky above her and shielded her eyes from the stray rays of sun with one hand.

“Y-Yes. It is nice.”

“You don’t mind me being out here, do you?”

“No no,” he said softly as he slowly sunk down beside her and took a seat on the hard marble bench. “The castle is your home. You may go anywhere you wish-”

“Except the West Wing.”

“That didn’t stop you before,” he snapped.

Silence.

The Beast regretted his rude tone.

“I, er, hope to see you at lunch,” he hurriedly mumbled. He rose to his hind legs and made his way stiffly towards the forest.

She has no respect for me whatsoever, he thought as he crashed through the forest in anger. What is love without respect? He ripped through a poor tree that happened to be in his way in a blind rage and continued on. Christ, what is ANY relationship without respect? My servants all respect me and all seem perfectly happy despite our circumstance. What must I do to receive the same treatment from her?

***

Belle was secretly happy to see him go. Saving her life was one thing, but the rest of his actions and unruly behavior were another. Still, she had to admit he was adorable when he stumbled through his words around her. Maybe having lunch in the dining hall wasn’t such a bad idea.


	2. Chapter 2

That afternoon, the two settled in the dining hall for warm French onion soup, courtesy of everyone’s favorite matronly teapot. The china they ate from was lovely, but Belle was a bit frightened at first by the growling lions whose heads adorned each side of the bowl. To ease her fears, one began to gently lick and nuzzle her fingers as she ate and she soon calmed down and enjoyed her meal. Though not a fan of onions, Belle swallowed them and her stubbornness quickly, as there was nothing the kitchen’s staff couldn’t cook. After all, she was at first hesitant towards Lumiere’s insistence to “try the grey stuff- it’s delicious!”, but soon came to realize that using the word ‘grey’ to describe food was not necessarily a bad thing.

The Beast, who was seated on the other side of the table, was struggling with his silverware. It was not the thought of using one of his kitchen staff as a utensil, though he did feel pity for whichever poor bastard was turned into a spoon. His massive paws and killer claws made it challenging to grasp such a tiny object, and he honestly did better just gobbling up everything like a beast anyway. But since there was a lady at the table this afternoon, he forced himself to pick up the flimsy metallic utensil and attempted to daintily scoop up some soup, dribbling the contents into his throat. Though the vast majority somehow ended up dripping down his fangs, he was proud of himself for doing something that he hadn’t done in many years. Granted, Belle was giggling at him from across the table, but it was in an endearing way that didn’t bruise his ego. He let this slide, as she was still laughing at him, but only this once.

“Care for some more to drink, luv?”

“Oh!” Belle was surprised to see Mrs. Potts and a slightly anthropomorphic wine bottle on a gold plated cart beside her. “Yes, please.”

The teapot refilled the guest’s wine glass and made her way over to the master’s place.

“Er, thank you,” he responded gruffly. Mrs. Potts was so surprised by his sudden display of manners that she almost knocked Monsieur Vincent (the wine bottle) right off the cart. They scurried away without a word.

The Beast tried in vain to strike up a conversation.

“How is your meal?”

“Lovely,” Belle replied with a soft yelp, as the lion’s head had accidentally nipped her.

Noticing this, the Beast arose with a start with a look in his eyes that caused the little lion to shrink back and whimper.

“I’m sure it was an accident,” she said, hiding the spot of blood that the porcelain predator had drawn. Daintily swirling the rose red wine in her glass, she casually attempted to change the subject. “You have a lovely garden. One could easily spend the entire day out there.”

“I see. Is that what you were trying to do today?” The Beast slowly sat back down.

“Not necessarily. I was just hoping to get a bit of fresh air this morning.”

“Since you spend all of your time here cooped up in your quarters?”

“Well, yes, but-”

“Why is that?”

Belle sank back in her seat a bit. She knew that never coming out of her room was unspeakably rude, but that did not excuse his behavior. She straightened.

“You expect me to be open to the idea of being held captive- to just be a damsel in distress? I only agreed to this because you kidnapped my father!”

“He was trespassing! What did you expect me to do?”

“Show a little kindness and decency to a sick, helpless old man!”

“You expect me to just leave my doors open to every Tom, Dick, and Stanley that just waltzes in here uninvited? DO YOU THINK I WANT OTHERS TO SEE THIS?” He leaped up on the table, snarling. Belle, not one to be walked all over, put aside the few eighteenth-century ladylike conventions that she followed and did the same, albeit with some difficulty. She scrambled a bit to get up on the table, but the skirt of her dress didn’t allow for much movement. She slipped a bit and landed on her knees, but regained her dignity by managing to stand.

“You monster- he could have died!”

The Beast slowly crept towards Belle, the table creaking under his weight.

“What did you just call me?” he snarled. Belle could feel his warm breath in her face.

“Master, please-”

“SILENCE, LUMIÉRE.” He turned back to Belle. “What did you call me?”

“A monster. A horrible, beastly monster.” She crossed her arms indignantly. “You were going to let an old man die just because he was looking for shelter!”

The Beast stood and stared at his “guest“. Suddenly, he reached for her and grabbed her by the hair, his claws grazing her neck.

“What are you- agh! Let me go!” He yanked her off the table and dragged her from the dining hall.

“Let the poor girl go, m’lord!” Mrs. Potts hopped helplessly after them, click click click. “You’re only making the situation worse!”

“I DON’T CARE! IF SHE LIVES IN MY HOME, THEN SHE’LL SHOW ME RESPECT!” He pulled the maiden towards the dungeon tower as Belle helplessly stumbled along.

“Think of the rose, m’lord!”

The Beast and his captive made their way up the stone stairs. Belle slipped slightly on the polished stones, falling to her knees with a yelp. The Beast yanked her back up and continued up the stairs.

“Please let me go!”

The Beast ignored her, his mind on her punishment.

When they reached the dungeon, he threw her in and she slid across the floor into a large pile of hay. When she looked up, the Beast had shut the heavy wooded door. She gently rubbed her neck, sore from his mistreatment. Tears fell down her cheek with fear of what was to come.

The Beast clambered down the stairs on all fours and headed towards the horse stable. Philippe awoke with a start and greeted the Beast with a whinny after noticing Belle’s familiar scent in his fur. The Beast ignored the humble carthorse and searched quickly. Though he was unable to ride horses himself, the stable was still well equipped with the proper instruments- a fine assortment of whips and crops was hanging from the opposite wall.


	3. Chapter 3

Belle had drifted off to sleep in the hay after trying in vain to make herself comfortable. She tended to the scratches and scrapes on her knees and made herself a little nest. She trembled slightly when the cool air harshly drifted inside the tower and slept for what felt like a few minutes until-

“Mademoiselle! Mademoiselle!”

“Lumière? Is that you?” Belle crawled over from the haystack and towards the heavy wooden door. She pulled at the aged and splintered wood, but it was no use- the Beast had locked it when he left and had taken the key with him.

“Mademoiselle, we don’t have much time- the Master will surely be back soon. Do you see a window across the room?”

“Yes!” Belle ran quickly and looked outside. The view from the tower was dizzying- the bridge to the castle appeared to be the size of her thumbnail, and the chasm that would later take Gaston’s life seemed even more daunting.

“We have a plan to get you out- we’ll assemble the rest of the castle staff to catch you.”

“What? Are you insane? Falling on a pile of furniture would be worse than just jumping out with nothing to catch me!”

“You seem to have not met the rest of us- even your mattress is self aware!”

“… Ewww.”

“We’ll be in position soon. Don’t worry, my dear! You’ll be out of there soon enough!”

Belle listened as Lumière hopped down the stairs. She was not wholly on board with this plan, but it seemed to be her only way out. She looked helplessly through her tears at the restraints on the wall, wondering how strong they were. She worked on pulling apart the straps, but it was no use- the straps had been recently replaced and the metal was well oiled. It seemed that the tower was the Beast’s favorite place to keep hostages and trespassers.

The Beast, clutching his “tools” in his fangs, quickly lumbered back up the stairs with his claws clicking on the stones. He planned his approach carefully- this would not be one of the pleasant and innocent encounters that he had previously dreamt of. He carried a selection of whips, crops, ropes, and a gag (unused, of course- he wasn’t a total monster.). His mind elsewhere, he did not notice as Lumière hurried to his own destination, careful not to burn any tapestries or rugs with his lit tea candle hands.

Belle paced nervously in front of the window, nervously looking at what she could see of the ground below. All of the castle’s inhabitants had begun to gather, with the notable exceptions of Mrs. Potts and her entourage, along with the cutlery and sentient wine bottles, as they would shatter instantly. Belle shuffled her bare feet on the dirty floor and tried to consider how fast she would fall- she had no clue how high up she was, and calculating the exact rate would be futile without scratch paper. At least she had gotten to read that physics textbook that Cogsworth had smuggled into her bedroom.

As Belle leaned out once more to watch their progress, the Beast burst in, startling his captive. Thinking quickly, Belle decided to take her chances with the semi-prepared castle staff and scrambled to the window sill.

The Beast froze in horror.

“WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU THINKING?” he shouted, dropping everything as his eyes widened in fear and Belle crouched, ready to jump.

“That I would rather DIE than spend another second with a BEAST!” she shouted.

Upon hearing this, the castle staff scrambled into position. The mattresses stacked themselves on top of each other, bracing for impact.

Belle closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

For a split second, she felt weightless as adrenaline pumped through her veins and clouded her thoughts. The cool winter breeze surrounded her as she fell…

… for a fraction of a second, until she felt a sharp pain in her arm and her body slammed into the castle wall. Opening her eyes to see the Beast leaning out the window and clinging to her arm, she screamed in fear. His sharp claws started to break the skin; his cold gaze sent a chill through her spine. The castle staff attempted to climb on each other to reach her, but fell back into a pile of snow just as the Beast pulled Belle back through the window. Belle gasped in pain.

He threw her to the ground once more and prepared the restraints on the wall. Belle crept on all fours back over to the window.

“You honestly still think that that will work?” the Beast snarled. He grabbed her by the arm again an d dropped her immediately beside him so that he could keep an eye on her. Once he was satisfied with the leather straps he pulled her up and fastened them tightly around her wrists. Belle honestly didn’t know what to do at this point- should she fight back or beg for his forgiveness?

“Why would you jump out the window?” he growled, pacing in front of her. Belle’s eyes remained fixed on the floor. She didn’t want to give away his staff- he would tear them to bits in an instant.

“Well?”

“I told you why,” she replied callously.

The Beast reached towards her. Fearing that he would strike her, Belle shrunk back. Instead, he simply pulled her chin up with one claw and stared tempestuously into her bright, hazel eyes. For a moment, he believed that he could see into her soul. Searching deeply, he wanted to see just what made her tick. He wanted to break her down and build her back up just the way he wanted. He wanted a woman that respected him- one that would not even think to call him what he was: a monster, a beast, a nightmare.

Belle remained silent, concealing her dread in a shroud of defiance. She squirmed and kicked, hoping to get him to let her go. She couldn’t decide whether it was his hot, slow breath on her face, or her fear that was making her sweat profusely. His azure eyes looked familiar, but it was the first time that she had really looked into them. She had seen them somewhere before, but where?

He pulled back.

“Undress,” he commanded.

“W-what?”

“Undress, I said.” Belle’s restraints were close to the ground, allowing her full access to her arms, so his command wasn’t completely unreasonable. However, she wasn’t concerned with that in the slightest. The Beast expected her to expose herself for his pleasure. No one had seen her undressed before, with the exception of Madame Armoire, but she did not look at her the way Belle expected him to look at her body, so she did not count. This man was worse than Gaston. She scowled at the Beast with disbelief.

“You honestly think-”

The Beast reached for the whip, which was long with a strong metallic handle.

“If you’re going to be difficult, I have a way to remedy that. I’ll say it one more time. UNDRESS.”

Belle’s hands shook as she reached down to undo the metal clasps that held her dress together. It was a lovely shade of olive green that complemented her eyes. The clasps came apart with gentle snaps as Belle slowly pulled the fabric down, revealing the light cotton dress underneath. It was thin enough to reveal her handmade brassiere, created specifically to make Gaston stop staring at her breasts but was now worn due to the habit of just putting it on. It was fashioned from two soft handkerchiefs and sewn together with old fabric odds and ends inserted for padding and comfort. She slipped it off as well, but ran into a problem- she was stuck underneath the pile of fabrics, unable to remove the rest of her layers. The Beast, who had been watching intently, simply reached forward once more. Belle, once again frightened of his claws, pressed her back as close to the wall as possible. Once again, he did not strike her- instead, he ripped through the tangled mess in an instant, leaving Belle to remove her corset herself.

The Beast threw the remaining scraps of fabric aside and turned to face his prisoner once more. Belle covered her swollen breasts with her hands as tears gathered in her eyes once more.

She looked up, angrier than she had ever been.

“What do you want with me?” she cried. “I know a man just like you in my village. He followed me everywhere whenever I would go into town for a book or to sell eggs from our chickens, always staring at me, touching me. That egotistical brainless brute wouldn’t know a haystack from a horse’s-”

“Sit up,” the Beast snarled. Belle straightened her back and continued. “No- like this.” He pulled her up so that she stood on her knees with her legs spread apart. He reached for a scrap of lace from her dress and tied her hands together behind her back. Belle struggled but was quickly subdued by his massive paw on her chest. “He didn’t… do anything to you, did he?”

“Well, the day I came here, he forced himself into my house, and asked me to marry him. Though I wouldn’t exactly say ‘asked‘, it was more like he didn’t believe I would say no, because he believes himself to be God’s gift to humanity. Always strutting around town… And everyone loves him! I wouldn’t be surprised if he slept in a different woman’s bed every night.”

“What did he do when he was in your house?”

“He told me that I was to be his wife, and had an entire wedding set up outside- with the entire town in attendance! Then he told me that he expected me to just be a pretty baby factory that spent the entire day inside cooking, cleaning, and rubbing his feet when he returned from hunting! And then- oh, this is the worst part- he tried to force himself on me. The way he came after me, it was awful! He knocked down furniture, threw chairs… I was barely able to get him out of my house by fooling him.”

The Beast looked down.

“Y-you say I’m just as awful as this man?”

“Well, I don’t seem to remember him tying me up in a tower and holding me captive in his house forever…”

The Beast rose to his hind feet and made his way towards the door.

“W-where are you going?”

“I need to get something to seal up that window. Stay in that position until I return."


	4. Chapter 4

The castle staff shuffled inside in defeat. Mrs. Potts knew immediately that they had failed, as the looks on their faces said everything. (Then again, the next part of the plan if it had succeeded was to escort Belle back to her village on horseback and avoid the wolves as best as they could, so seeing them anyway would give away that she was still the Beast’s captive.)

“He still has her, doesn’t he?”

Cogsworth stepped forward, nodding sadly.

“What’s wrong, Momma?” Chip whimpered. “Is Belle gonna be okay?”

“Run along Chip. I need to speak with Cogsworth and the others.”

“But-”

“No, Chip. And don’t you dare go looking for her!”

***

After he left, Belle immediately sunk down and sat on the side of her hip. Her hair stuck to her skin due to the sweat as she busied herself trying to untie the lace. Unfortunately, it just became even tighter and seemed to cut into her wrists. Irritated, she gave up and blew a strand of hair out of her face. The Beast hadn’t even touched her, but she already felt like a common whore just by sitting naked in the presence of a male. In fact, wearing nothing for an extended period of time felt weird in itself. 

The grey stones beneath her felt like ice due to the worsening winter weather.

After waiting for what seemed like hours for his return, she closed her eyes and began to drift off.

She found herself wondering wistfully around the castle, wearing a simple cherry pink dress. It was dead silent, and it seemed as if she was the only inhabitant of this mysterious place. Not even the castle’s staff made an appearance, which was interesting considering that Chip and Sultan followed her everywhere on the rare occasion that she ventured out of her quarters. Sensing no one around her, she decided to make a break for it- there was no one guarding the door and no one around, so why not try to get back home? All she would need to do is hitch up Phillipe and head through the forest. The wolves would probably be in their dens, and it would be much easier to travel by sunlight…

Belle awoke with a sharp sting across her body.

“I thought I told you to stay in that position until I returned.”

She looked up to see the Beast with the whip in his claw and a scrap of wood under his arm. Belle straightened back onto her knees and he turned his attention to the window. Even just sitting like that for a few minutes caused her legs to spasm out of stress and she struggled to stay up. Looking over to watch him seal the window, she noticed that he had placed a (non-sentient) wooden bench in the middle of the room.

“What is that for?”

“You’ll see soon enough,” he growled as he checked to make sure the wood in the window was sturdy enough. Belle now noticed that he had a length of rope hanging from his arm. He turned and strode back to Belle, throwing the hammer to the side and leaning down to remove her restraints. “Either you bruise really easily, or you were trying to escape,” he noted, examining her wrists.

Belle remained silent. She heard the metal hooks fall to the floor.

“Answer me.”

Belle’s gaze stayed fixed to the floor.

The Beast, not one to be toyed with, pulled her onto the bench face down. Using the rope he tied her torso to it tightly and used some of the remaining scraps of lace to fasten her appendages to the legs. Belle yelped in pain and tried to squirm free, which did nothing but cause the rope to scrape against her back. He pressed her down with his massive paw and waited for her to tire herself out.

“Are you finished?”

Belle whimpered in pain.

“I assume you tried to escape, then.”

Silence.

He ran across the room on all fours and retrieved the whip, raising it in his claw.

“ANSWER ME!”

“FINE! IS IT SO SUPRISING THAT I TRIED TO ESCAPE?”

He answered with the whip, causing Belle to scream in agony.

“Are you going to give me a more ladylike response, or would you like another?”

“I… I-”

“You what?”

“I tried to escape. I tried to escape!”

The Beast stood back, holding the whip behind him.

“Now, I am going to set a few simple rules for you. First, you will speak when I tell you to and only when I tell you to. This is not only for my benefit, but also to ensure your own safety, so I’d recommend that you cooperate.” The Beast gently ran his claws down her back. Belle whimpered softly.

“You are only allowed to address me as either ‘Master’ or ‘Sir’. Understood?”

“Yes,” she said weakly.

“What was that?” he snapped, digging his claws deeper.

“Yes, Master!” she yelped.

“Good. You are to obey my every command. You are to make yourself available to me at all times. You must ask permission to do anything that might infract on my time.”

He circled around her, his eyes tracing her figure. Belle’s eyes were completely closed. Did he think he could honestly force her into being his slave?

“When speaking to me, you must remember your role. You are to keep a journal each day detailing your feelings on the day’s events. Each entry will end with a list of three things you want to work on regarding your duties to me, and a list of three things you are thankful for.”

“WHAT IN THE WORLD WOULD I HAVE TO BE THANKFUL FOR?”

The Beast stopped and looked her straight in the eye. He raised the whip once more, but stopped after realizing what would be better.

“I think that you need some time to think this over by yourself.” And with that, he strode out of the room, leaving Belle still bound to the bench.


	5. Chapter 5

Non-sentient candlesticks, buckets, broomsticks, and more went tumbling down the stairs as the Beast furiously made his way downstairs, crashing into everything he could find. He only left out of fear of seriously injuring her in his rage, but then again that was a possibility even when she wasn’t locked in the dungeon.

After leaving the stairwell that lead to the tower, he trotted over to the great staircase in order to retreat to the West Wing, only to find a very livid teapot seated on the second stair from the bottom.

“I suppose pleadin’ with you to let the poor girl go is pointless?”

“It’s for her own good,” his voice thundered.

Mrs. Potts scowled at the Beast in such a way that she began to quiver so violently she looked as if she was about to shatter.

“Master, I’ve stood by you for years through a great many t’ings- the enchantment, your temper tantrums, the great fan fiction crisis of 1762, but this m’lord, is where I draw the line.”

“Mrs. Potts, if you would let me explain-”

“EXPLAIN WHAT? The bloody awful things you plan t’do to the poor child? It takes quite a lot to make this ol’ tea kettle boil, and quite honestly, m’lord, I t’ink your water is about to BOIL OVER!”

The Beast, already ready to break something else, managed to hold his rage inside as he ambled to the top of the staircase. He turned to face her.

“If I catch any of you attempting to interfere with my plans once more- yes, I know about earlier,” he snarled, acknowledging her look of surprise, “there will be serious consequences. I saw the crowd that had gathered beneath the window. Don’t think that I won’t notice anything else.”

Mrs. Potts fumed silently as he turned to retire for the night.

“Oh, and one more thing I should add,” he called out, peering between the bars of the railing.

“What is that, m’lord?” the tea kettle acquiesced, tuning around to face him.

“She will be punished as well, doubly so, if she is involved with any of your schemes. Good night.”

***

Belle began to sob in exhaustion and frustration. The ropes hurt, her welts stung, and rage boiled inside her. Her hair hung over her head like a mop, soaked from the sweat, as the icy atmosphere dried them into random messy locks. Her lips felt chapped and her stomach grumbled in hunger.

He had tied her in such a way that her knees touched the floor, but this position soon became unbearable. She dragged her toes against the stones in an attempt to pull herself up. To say that this was futile would be an understatement. She scrambled and flailed for a bit before giving up.

Next, she considered somehow dragging herself back over to the window, but it was sealed tight and those who had promised to catch her had probably regrouped inside the castle.

Was he insane? Belle knew that he had a recalcitrant temper, but to submit to him and call him “Master?” Give Gaston some credit, at least he didn’t bind her to a bench and strike her with a whip.

She surveyed the rest of his “tools” scattered about on the floor. The whip was the only thing she could name, save for a paddle she noticed upon another reconnaissance.

The ropes seemed to dig even deeper than they had before, causing her skin to feel as if it were on fire and forcing her to return her head to its previous position. Having slept for the most of the day, she was unable to recede back into her previous fantasy. She decided to ease her pain and boredom by counting the stones that made up the walls and floor.

***

Before crawling into his nest of blankets and pillows, the Beast examined the rose as he did every night. It was surrounded by the same amount of petals and seemed intact, which put his mind slightly at ease. Feeling the chill in the air, he shut the glass door to the outside world and crawled silently into bed.

Before he nodded off he gently tended to his matted fur, pulling out the knots with his teeth and licking it over with his large, raspy tongue. He thought about the maiden trapped in his tower, tied to the bench, bruised and miserable. Eerily, he both expected and passionately adored her defiance. Though her audacity still agitated the monster inside him, he admired her rebellion. Too bad it would have to be done away with…

Then again, it was rather chilly, and she had been there for quite a while on her own. Maybe it was time to see if she was ready to cooperate.

***

At stone eight hundred ninety two, Belle began to hear claws clicking on the stairs outside the door.

At stone nine hundred four, Belle could hear a key in the keyhole.

At stone nine hundred sixteen, Belle could hear claws clicking across the floor.

At stone nine hundred twenty eight, Belle could hear a load of something soft being dropped on the floor.  
Upon further inspection, it appeared to be an assortment of quilts and comforters.

“How are you feeling, Belle?”

Belle wanted to come up with a snaky response, but she was not in the mood for another round of stone-counting.

“Awful.”

“And why is that?”

“Because you’ve tied me to-”

“What was that?” he snarled, raising the whip, causing Belle to lower her head.

“Because _my master_ tied me to a bench and whipped me.”

“And why did I tie you to a bench and whip you?”

“B-because…” Belle thought for a second, unable to come up with an answer. “I’m not sure why, Sir.”

“Could it be because you were being disobedient?” he growled, pacing slowly around her on all fours. “I instructed you to remain in the position that I had designated, did I not?”

“Y-yes, sir.” Belle caught on quickly. It was the only way to get on his good side.

“Why did you misbehave, then?”

“Because it caused me pain, Sir.”

“Which hurts more, sitting up on your legs for an extended period of time, or your punishment?”

“The punishment, Sir.”

“Will you disobey me the next time I ask something so simple?”

“No, Sir.” Belle was on the verge of tears again. The Beast stood on his hind legs and began to untie the ropes, studying her bruises.

“All is forgiven,” he murmured, gently stroking her skin with the pads of his paws.

“Wait- what?” She turned to face him and rolled over slightly.

“I forgive you. I will not punish you for this incident again.”

Belle was… shocked, to say the least. The Beast seemed like the type to bring up random, forgotten nonsense in the middle of unrelated arguments. She hesitantly reached out to stroke his mane.

“Th-thank you, sir.”

He gently accepted her hand, taking it into his own paw, and began to stroke it. Belle was surprised at how soft yet tough they were.

“Are you cold, Belle?” he asked suddenly. She looked up at him, amazed that he had gone from berating her to being humane so quickly.

“Yes, Master.”

Without another word he scooped her up into his arms.

“What are you-?”

“Hush,” he rumbled. The Beast lowered her into the nest of blankets. Belle quietly made herself comfortable as he settled in beside her. Nervously, he reached his arm around her and pulled his prisoner into his warm, flocculent body. Belle trembled slightly, though this was a welcome improvement over her previous situation. She wiggled her arms free and held his against herself.

“Belle?”

“Yes, Sir?”

“Are you comfortable?”

“Y-yes, Sir.”

“You hesitated. Be truthful, or else I will have to punish you again.”

“But you said-”

“I said that I would not punish you for your previous infraction.”

Belle looked away.

“… My back hurts.”

“Is that it?” he asked, looking over her bruises.

“Everything hurts, Master.”

The Beast pulled away and rose to all fours. Belle watched him fearfully. Would he beat her over this, too? He had asked her to candid about her pain…

“Roll over,” he commanded softly.

Belle did as she was told and braced herself for the icy sting across her back. Would he use the whip again this time, or something else?

She quivered as the Beast lightly ran his wet, raspy tongue down her back and over her wounds. He was… bathing her? Belle didn’t know what to think about this. At first she was slightly disgusted, but as he went on, the pain from her welts seemed to fade away.

Belle’s tense muscles relaxed with each gentle lap, and she giggled madly at the stark contrast of her previous pain and this surprising pleasure. He traced the tips of his claws down the sides of her figure, adding to the experience. Occasionally she could feel his cuspidate teeth brushing against her- dry, strong intimidating. Her stomach tightened as she lowered herself back into the blankets.

The Beast, certain that he had addressed every wound, settled back into his previous spot and pulled his prisoner back into his arms. Belle accepted without any hint of animosity. He stroked her hair as he began to drift off.

“Goodnight, Belle.”

“Goodnight, Master.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I usually have the next three chapters at a time written and prepared, so that I can let them sit for a while and revisit them before editing, thesaurus-inflating, typing, and posting, so whenever I get a message about something specific from the last posted chapter, I have a brief moment of confusion over what you're talking about. XD
> 
> Let me make something clear- Belle is probably my favorite character out of any movie period. I would never let the Beast rape her, and I would never completely ignore why she fell in love with him in the first place. I would never let any of that happen for the sake of shameless smut. No more messages over that, please! I feel like the grandfather in The Princess Bride!


End file.
